


It is what it is

by Johnlock_4_ever



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Sherlock's POV, s4 compliant, up to the end of TLD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:49:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlock_4_ever/pseuds/Johnlock_4_ever
Summary: "Then, all of a sudden, the heavy weight of reality came crushing down on him. This wasn’t a dream."





	It is what it is

“It’s not okay,” John sobbed, his voice muffled by the soft fabric of Sherlock’s T-shirt. Sherlock had known for years now that it would come to this eventually. John had known it too since the moment they had shared that look during John’s wedding; Sherlock had clearly seen it in his eyes that day.

“No, but it is what it is,” the taller man said reassuringly and tightened his grip on the shaking man in his arms. God, he too was shaking by now and it only made sense. He had tried to ignore it for years and now that it all forced its way back to the surface… Sherlock had never handled emotions well; especially not when they involved a particular army doctor.

Sherlock rested his chin on top of the shorter man’s head. The movement was ever so soft and careful; a gesture of 'I can easily draw back if it makes you feel uncomfortable'. But John did not feel uncomfortable, if anything he leant into the touch; even nuzzled his face into the crook of Sherlock’s neck. They stayed like this for several minutes without saying a word. Words were unnecessary anyway now that John finally allowed himself to _show_ his feelings in long overdue tears and gentle touches. Neither of them had ever dared to say it out loud, let alone show it, but they had always loved each other. Sherlock half-hoped, half-feared that the kind of love John felt for him was the same kind of love he felt for John: real, intimate, unconditional.

The detective knew that the things John just said about Irene were merely an attempt to restore the kind of normality they’d never had. Sherlock had never been interested in women and John knew it. John had never been exclusively straight and open about it and Sherlock knew that as well. Throughout the past years, there had been too many denied feelings, too many lost chances, too many lies and too much pretending. If they did not change this now, they probably never would…

“John,” Sherlock began, but the other man was reluctant to withdraw his face from the safety of Sherlock’s neck already. Sherlock lifted his head a bit – 'I need to look at you, John. Please, let me look at you.' – but kept his hand, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, on the bare skin of John’s neck while the other one rested against John’s upper arm – 'I won’t let you go, I promise.' John blinked his tears away and eventually looked up at the taller man; a pair of grey-blue eyes met Sherlock’s. Their faces were too close together now but not close enough to Sherlock’s liking.

“I know that it is an inconvenient time, but if I don’t say it now, I probably never will.” Sherlock made a little pause, but he knew that he would have to say it now; there was no way back anymore. His heart was thudding against his rib cage, but if anything some adrenaline was more than welcome in a situation like this. Sherlock cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his sudden nervousness and insecurity; tried, failed…

“If you hadn’t saved me today, I would be dead by now and it was more than just a calculated risk, John. I _wanted_ to be dead if you hadn’t saved me because… Because living a life without you…” His voice broke off and he simply stared right into John’s eyes; relieved when he found what he had been looking for: understanding, affection, warmth, safety. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. It was now or never, they both knew that.

“I love you,” Sherlock whispered barely audible, but his voice was full of affection. He said it again and again as if to convince himself that he had finally said it after all those years. A constant, soft stream of whispered “I love you, I love you, _I love you_ ” fell from his lips until they brushed against John’s lips and instead of backing away, instead of insisting that they were just friends – had always been _just friends_ – John buried his hands in Sherlock’s soft curls and kissed him back. They merely brushed their lips together, very tentatively at first, but it felt incredibly good and right and finally, _finally_ , real. Sherlock had dreamt about this so many times already that in a way he still questioned the reality of the situation. He had been on drugs again, had nearly overdosed and perhaps this was just another drug-induced dream. John pressed his body closer against Sherlock’s, taking those doubts away as if he had somehow guessed Sherlock’s thoughts. Then, all of a sudden, the heavy weight of reality came crushing down on him. This wasn’t a dream. John had saved him and now they stood in the living room of 221B; kissing, touching, still kissing… John brushed the tip of his tongue over the seam of Sherlock’s lips, then gently sucked on the plush bottom lip. Sherlock sighed heavily – the kiss felt incredible for its own sake but the fact that _John_ was kissing him like that made it perfect. When John released Sherlock’s bottom lip, the taller man let his tongue brush against John’s. It was tentative, almost shy at first, but their kiss soon became more passionate, more longing. Sherlock raked his fingertips through John’s hair; desperate, breathless, _please don’t stop_. However, the lack of oxygen became too big too soon, leaving them both gasping for air and even then they pressed their foreheads together – unwilling to let go of each other completely.

“I love you too,” John said breathlessly and Sherlock could clearly see the vulnerability in his still teary eyes. So insecure, so fragile after all… “God, I love you, Sherlock.” He smiled at the other man. Then, after a while: “You’re right, it is what it is.”

“It is what it has always been,” the detective replied. It was true; they had tiptoed around this for ages now. As soon as both of them had caught their breath John leant in for another kiss, but he stopped when they heard footsteps on the staircase. They were lighter and also a tad faster than Mrs Hudson’s.

“It’s Molly,” Sherlock assessed in a disappointed tone of voice; _disappointed_ because he had hoped this moment between John and him would last longer. However, he said it in such a way that it elicited a soft chuckle from John.

“It’s your birthday. You promised to go out for cake with Greg, me and her and she promised to pick you up. Problem?” John asked as they grabbed their coats and were about to leave the flat. Sherlock took John’s hand into his own and gave him a look that roughly translated to: 'Is that okay?' John looked down at where his hand was lying in Sherlock’s and then simply smiled at the detective.

“No problem at all,” Sherlock said before they left the flat to meet Molly in the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Johnlock fic. 'Fix-It of sorts' because I really liked S4, but I also want them to be happy already. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes; I'm not a native speaker ;)


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